


A Consultation

by kyrilu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Extra Treat, M/M, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 10:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12579616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/kyrilu
Summary: Dumbledore visits Grindelwald at Nurmengard for advice...encouragement...something like that.





	A Consultation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Wavesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/gifts).



Albus laid the photos down on the metal table between them.

“I didn’t do that,” Gellert said. He rattled the chains on his wrists. “The first time you visit, you show me this, Albus? Not even a Jelly Baby or pear drop or whatever sweet nonsense of the month?”

His mouth twisted at the sight of the pictures. There were bodies lying dead, still and unmarked. The sigil of the Deathly Hallows was carved into the wall behind them.

“All Muggles,” Albus said. “The Gordon family. Amy, Basil, James, and Flora, as well as their cat Checkers. Checkers, I hear, was great friends with the neighbors’ cat Spot.”

“I didn’t do that,” Gellert repeated. “Whoever did has a sense of dramatic framing, but it’s certainly not me, since I’m stuck here, and certainly not my followers, who have been rounded up. We never went after random individual Muggles; we timed our attacks to their battlefields and political buildings.”

Really, Gellert was sure Albus would know him better. It was a waste of time. They could be discussing books, or eating sweets, or doing something absorbing. Not this.

“It looks quite simple,” Gellert said. “There was a wizard neighbor who snapped and killed them all. Maybe the cat bothered him. He panicked and tried to carve the Hallows symbol on the wall to cover up the crime, ascribing a political motive to the murder.”

Albus, suddenly, looked weary. There were wisps of white in his red hair, and Gellert was suffused with the temporary desire to comfort him, which was absurd because Gellert was bound with these chains, and because Albus _was_ responsible for his current state in the first place.

“It does look that simple, doesn’t it?” Albus murmured. “That’s what the Aurors concluded. But this affair is more complicated than it appears. Mrs. Amy Gordon was at an orphanage before she was adopted. An orphanage one of my former students resided in…”

“You suspect one of your students?” Gellert said.

“Yes,” Albus said. “He’s out of the country. Traveling. But it would have been very easy for him to say the word over owl, and any of his schoolmates would do it. Many of the other children from this orphanage have met similar, though more subtle fates. Some of them genuinely could have lost their lives during the Blitz – or changed their names in the country where they were sent for safety – or died of illness -- or went overseas to America.

“This is the first outright and obvious murder.”

“What an enterprising lad, this student of yours,” Gellert said. “He was too young during my war, I suppose?”

Albus said, “Innocent people are dead, Gellert.”

“You cannot just tell me all of this,” Gellert said lowly, “and expect my cooperation. What do you think I can do, Albus? You put me in this cage, and you want me to endure your paranoid ramblings about your ex-student. Go tell the Aurors.”

“The Aurors don’t believe me.”

“Ah,” Gellert said. “And you want me, a dark wizard and criminal, to _validate_ your personal vendetta.”

Albus looked…frustrated. That was the thing about him, he put on this front of wisdom and whimsy, but Gellert knew how _angry_ Albus could get. He could see that Albus wanted to curse someone; he knew how powerful Albus was, blazing with power that could hurt and kill.

And Albus believed he could be happy teaching children.

“This was a message to me,” Albus said abruptly. “Tom knew that I was looking into the disappearances of the children at the orphanage. He wanted to show me that he could kill like this. In the open, with impunity, without consequence. He put your symbol there, so I would be drawn into the investigation and be dismissed by the Aurors.”

“This is the price you pay for your cowardice and timidity,” Gellert said, with a sneer. “Despite defeating me and being a noted academic and inventor, you do not have a substantial political base. You avoid your Ministry like the plague. You rarely ask favors of your former students in positions of power. You barely took a strong stance during the war, besides meek ‘killing Muggles is bad’ statements before you caved in because this was personal, because you were in love with me—“

“No,” Gellert interrupted himself, noting the look in Albus’ eyes. “ _Are._ I’m your last resort. You didn’t know who to go to. Except me.”

Something like a sad, wry smile flickered on the corners of Albus’ mouth. “Gellert,” he said, “you’re right.”

“Oh?”

“I suppose that’s what I needed to hear,” Albus said. “I shall have to prepare for the next war, like I didn’t for yours.”

“A war,” Gellert repeated. “You believe this boy would go that far.”

“Very much so,” Albus said. “At the tender age of sixteen, he orchestrated attacks on his fellow students with a magical creature. I believe your sixteen-year-old self was slightly more restrained, if rather pretentious about your prophecies and experiments. You had enough of a sense of humor to inflict petty pranks on my brother’s goats.”

And they both smiled at each other, thinking of the summer of 1899. It didn’t end well, but it was a summer of adventures and exploration, and Gellert would sometimes dream of what could have happened. He would dream of the red-haired boy who blushed whenever Gellert touched him.

“You will have to accept your Order of Merlin,” Gellert said, softly. “Earn a seat on your Wizengamot and aim for Chief Warlock. You will have to find like-minded wizards and witches who will fight and die for you when the time comes. It will not be easy, because wizarding society is full of fools. The other Hallows—“

“I will not.”

“Your task would be much easier if you were the Master of Death.”

“Temptation,” Albus said, and he stood and grasped Gellert’s shackled hands, “is too easy to give into. I, of all people, know that too well.”

Albus left. Gellert memorized the touch of Albus’ hands, and he found himself silently wishing his old friend good luck.


End file.
